


Take Me to Church

by VerdantMoth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coming Out, F/M, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Religious Conflict, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, gay kiss, good uther
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-08-23 06:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16613699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: Merlin nods at Arthur’s parents and says, “Apologies in advance for what you’re about to witness.” He pauses for a moment, and then says “and this,” before he grabs Arthur’s face and pulls him into a filthy kiss.





	Take Me to Church

“Do you believe in everything your father teaches, Merlin?” They’re sweating underneath the old pecan tree on the edge of the Pendragon's property when Arthur asks the question. Smoke is hanging in the air above them and they are resting on an old quilt Morgana had stowed away in the storage shed before she left for college.

Merlin fiddles with the tie hanging loose about his neck as he considers the question. Arthur rolls over, burying the last of the blunt in the dirt, and rest his chin on his hands as he studies the pit stains forming on Merlin’s lilac shirt. Arthur had convince his friend to at least take the suit coat off, and now Merlin was using it as a pillow.

“I dunno.” Merlin answers finally. He doesn’t open his eyes, but Arthur can still see the little v of concentration between them.

“C’mon. What’s that s’pose to mean? Either you believe or you don’t.” He reaches across the short distance and prods Merlin in the ribs. Merlin swats his hand away. He stretches his arms above his head and then curls up, studying the battered watch on his wrist. His eyes go large and Arthur lifts himself up on his hands.

“Shite Arthur! We’re meant to be back in ten minutes!”  Merlin is scrambling upwards, yanking the blanket from underneath Arthur and trying to arrange his tie properly. Arthur follows more slowly, bats Merlin’s hands away so that he can fix the grey strip of cloth.

“We can make it, Merlin. Besides, we’ve been late before.”

Merlin groans. “Oh you don’t understand! We’re heading to Mithian’s place after this. Father is going to be so mad I’m all sweaty and rumpled.”

Arthur studies him then, the dark curls clinging to his face and neck, the red flush high on his cheeks, the glassy look about his blue eyes. “Ah Merlin, I think sweat is the least of the things you have to worry about.”

Merlin scowls at him, punches his shoulder hard, and takes off running. He’ll never make it in ten minutes. It takes at least 12 minutes to cover the distance and Merlin’s never been that fast.

\---

They burst through the backdoor of the Pendragon plantation home sixteen minutes later, sweat dripping and gasping for breath. The adults are still gathered in the parlor so Arthur ushers Merlin into the kitchen. He grabs a couple of dishcloths and runs them under the faucet. Merlin wipes the cold water across his neck and face, tries to shake out his hair. Arthur scowls at him, shoves him away as drops of sweat hit him.

He’s studying Merlin’s rumpled form. “Well, there’s nothing to be done about the wrinkles. But,” he sinks to his knees, “I think I can get some of the dust off your shoes.”

“You got any Visine?” Merlin flaps the lapels of his jacket, still trying to cool off.

“Yeah, drawer to your left, under the Chico’s menu. Inside the gum container.”

Merlin snorts but digs through until he finds the watermelon gum. “Really, Arthur?” 

Arthur stands up and smacks him with the towel. “Shush you! No one else in the family likes that flavor.”

Merlin tilts his head back, letting the liquid drip into his eyes. “No one else but you likes the flavor.”

Arthur smacks him again, then takes the little bottle and uses it himself. He hands it back to Merlin to put away. “Well, pal, I think this is the best you’re going to get.”

Merlin sighs and kicks his feet against the linoleum floor. “Yeah, I guess.”  He’s stalling, something he does every time Balinor drags him off to some other parishioners house. “Hey, what was with that question earlier?”

Arthur opens his mouth, but Balinor speaks instead. “Ah, there you are, Merlin. The Nemeth’s rang. Mithian has taken ill so we won’t be going there today. Your mother and I are about to head home for supper. Mrs. Pendragon has kindly offered to let you stay here, if you and Arthur wanted to spend a little more time together.”

He studies his son, nose wrinkling as he takes in the state of his suit, but Hunith floats through the door and places a hand on his arm, resting her head against his shoulder. “She said you could even stay over, if you wanted. Your father could run you over a change of clothes, something for service tomorrow.”

Arthur turns towards him with hopeful eyes, but he knows better than to put his excitement on display. Merlin worries his lower lip between his teeth, eyes drifting over his parents. “No, you needn't bother. I’ll be home before last prayer.”

Balinor nods, and Arthur can’t help but think he looks like a examiner confirming an answer. Merlin’s shoulders slump as though he knows it. But he steps forward and hugs his parents, careful not to wrinkle his father’s coat or to drip sweat on his mother’s satin dress.

\---

Arthur and Merlin linger in the kitchen while Uther and Ygraine see Merlin’s parents out. Merlin finally rids himself of his coat and tie and clutches them awkwardly until Arthur takes them drops them on the bench in the hallway. “Really, Merlin, it’s like you haven’t spent half your childhood here.”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “I was trying not to clutter your lovely home.”

Uther snorts as he walks past them. “Even I know that’s never been a concern of yours, Emerson. I believe we are still finding plastic butterflies in random corners from your magic phase.”

Merlin can feel his ears heating up even as he smiles. “But you have to admit, that was a cool trick.”

Uther eyes him for a moment, and then shrugs. “I never did understand why you gave it up. You were always quite good at it. I never have managed to figure out how you made them fly.”

Merlin doesn’t answer. Ygraine joins them. “C’mon boys. Cook’ll have supper ready soon. Go wash up. You too, Uther!”

They all grumble at her but she waves her hands at them, brooking no argument. Uther leans down and kisses his wife before his goes.

Merlin and Arthur fight for the sink in his bathroom and Arthur flings cold water at him. “Merlin! There are like six other bathrooms you could have chosen. Morgana’s is right across the hall!”

“I am not fool enough to enter your sister’s space uninvited, Arthur. I’m not that ready to meet my maker.”

“Well, could you at least let me finish first? Christ!”

Merlin pinches him hard in the ribs. “Aren’t guest supposed to go first? Also didn’t you pay attention to service?”

“Please, Merlin. You say it every time you stub your toe tripping over nothing.” Arthur flashes him a smirk as he dries his hands on a towel. Merlin shoves him a little, then wipes his hands across Arthur’s back. His hands are broad, and if Arthur flushes it’s from the heat of the small room. Nothing more.

\---

Merlin loves eating at the Pendragon’s home. In part because the food is  _ so much better  _ than anything his parents ever serve. He thinks it’s because Cook—who won’t even confess her real name—is from some distant land and cooks with spices that make his tongue heavy and his nose sweat.

Mostly though, it’s because Uther and Ygraine Pendragon don’t make him follow the same strict rules almost everyone else does. They rarely bow their head for grace. Usually halfway through Uther will remember. He throws his hands up and says, “Bless the bites both past and future.” Then he continues eating with a wink at Merlin. And they’re a loud family. Everyone arguing about what every topic interests them and laughing together. It’s so different from the quiet tables Merlin is used to, where the most that is said after grace is, “Pass the salt dear, would you?”

Tonight, Arthur is waving his fork around. Merlin has had to duck twice to avoid sauce getting in his hair. “All I’m saying is heaven isn’t a physical thing. It’s more an idea. A theory! Back me up here, Merls.”

Merlin rolls his eyes as he takes a bite of crusty bread. “Streets of gold and gates of pearl seem pretty  _ physical  _ to me.”

Uther points at him with his own fork. “See? That’s a boy who listens when the preacher speaks. You’d do well, Arthur, to remove your headphones during service.”

Ygraine laughs. “Oh I don’t know, I think Arthur might be onto something. Heaven plays to the ideals of the people imagining it, Whatever is important; virgins, magic gardens, constant singing...” Here she wrinkles her nose. “Goodness, but I pray that’s not actually heaven. No one wants to hear me wailing for the rest of eternity!”

Uther laughs at his wife and grasps her hand. “I’m sure they’ll have autotune, dear.”

She swats him with a grin. “But I think our version of heaven isn’t so much about the details, but the idea. At the time, the best way to describe them was with ridiculous images of streets dripping with wealth. But in the end, all that matters is that it’s an eternal paradise. I’m not sure how it will look, but I hardly think that matters.”

Merlin and Arthur are both quiet as they ponder her words. Merlin especially rolls them about his mind, thinking of the pastel images hanging on the walls of the sanctuary. “So, you don’t think the sun will always be in the sky? Or that we will be forced into white robes always eating strange fruits?”

Ygraine studies him for a moment, blue eyes a shade darker than her son’s, heavy on Merlin. “I think, Merlin, that heaven is whatever we imagine it to be. Whatever my idea of paradise is will be very different to yours.”

Merlin stares down at his plate pushing leafy greens about as he thinks. His version of heaven would look very similar to this moment, he imagines. “I suppose we won’t know until we get there.”

It’s quiet for a moment and then Arthur kicks him beneath the table. “Who said you’re even getting in Merlin?”

Merlin kicks him back. “I’m the preacher’s kid. Guaranteed slot.”

\---

Uther and Ygraine invite them on a walk to the creek after dinner, but both boys decline still exhausted from their earlier sprint. They’re laying on Arthur’s bed flicking through the channels for something to watch. Merlin has borrowed one of Arthur’s band t-shirts and some shorts that hang low on his hips. Arthur has stripped down to a pair of sleep shorts.

“What no one tells you about summer,” he tosses the remote to the floor, “is that there is nothing decent to watch on a Saturday night.”

Merlin has his eyes closed, only half listening to Arthur’s complaint. “Mhm.”

Arthur flings his arm out, hitting him in the stomach. “Merlinnnnn... Entertain me, peasant!”

Merlin cracks an eye at him. “And what would you have me do for you?”

Arthur grins at him and wags his eyebrows. Merlin pushes himself up onto his elbows, narrowing his eyes. “Nothing lewd, Pendragon. I’m not one of your harlots you know.”

Arthur flushes. “Don’t be absurd, Merlin. Everyone knows harlots come to  _ me  _ . Like I’d have to ask.” He slips off the bed and moves towards the DVD shelf. “Let’s pick a movie, since nothing is on.”

Merlin climbs off the bed to hover over his shoulder, looking through their choice. “Nothing actiony tonight.” He’s running his fingers over Harry Potter and Doctor Who and Star Wars collections. His fingers pause on Billy Elliot and he pauses, pulling it from the shelf. Arthur is still looking through his war collection, so Merlin waves it in his face. “What’s this one? I’ve never seen it before.”

Arthur snatches it from him. “Nothing, Merlin. I don’t want to watch it.” He goes to shove the DVD back but Merlin is quicker, yanking it from his fingers. He pushes Arthur’s head down as he reads the description. “Boxing and ballet? Neither of those really seem your thing, Arthur.”

Arthur reaches for the movie again. “Yeah, exactly. Which is why we should pick something else. Give it here.”

Merlin’s eyes light up and he gets a grin that makes Arthur very nervous. “Oh no, now we  _ have  _ to watch this movie. Is it secretly porn? Are you into some weird kinky shit, Arthur? Is Father going to have to cleanse your soul?”

Arthur’s face turns an ugly purplish color and he pushes Merlin again, harder than the playful shove earlier. “Give it back, Merlin. It’s nothing like that.”

Merlin raises his hands in surrender. “Okay. All right! Sheesh, Arthur. What was that about?”

Arthur won’t look at him though. Instead he rotates the plastic case in his hands for a moment before tossing it aside. “I don’t want to watch a movie anymore. Maybe you should call your parents to pick you up. I’m sort of tired now.”

Merlin crosses his arms. “Hey, what is going on with you? You’ve been weird all day and now you’re kicking me out? Normally you’d be trying to convince me to stay the night.”

“Yeah, well maybe I’m just tired of your stupid face okay?”

Merlin reaches out and grabs Arthur by the arm. “No, it’s not okay actually. Is something wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Arthur turns back towards him, eyes water and rimmed red. “Can I, Merlin?”

Merlin looks at him, confused and wary. “Arthur, you’re my best friend. Nothing can ever change that.”

Arthur makes a noise that is somewhere between disbelief and sorrow. He looks as though he is going to say something, and then he shakes his head. He studies Merlin, gaze lingering on his lips, before locking on blue eyes. Merlin feels like he can’t breath as Arthur steps closer, as his hands hover over his shoulders.

Arthur leans in slow enough that if Merlin wanted to he could move. They could both pretend Arthur was just reaching for something behind him. Merlin doesn’t, and Arthur finally lowers his hands so that he is balancing himself on Merlin’s chest. By the time their lips finally meet, Merlin feels like he might explode.

The first kiss is strange. Arthur’s lips lightly pressed against Merlin’s as they stare at each other. It lingers, not exactly unpleasantly, and then Arthur pulls back. He’s waiting for Merlin to react. Waiting for the rage or disgust, perhaps. It’s Merlin who moves first, his hands finding the back of Arthur’s neck so that he can tangle them in blond hair. He pulls Arthur’s face towards him, and it’s a little too fast and a little too hard; teeth clacking against teeth. By the third kiss though, they’ve figured it out. Arthur has pushed Merlin against the wall. His hands are on Merlin’s waist, fingers drifting just below the t-shirt. They’re a tangled mess of breath and lips, eyes half-shut as they explore. Merlin’s tongue pushes against Arthur’s mouth and it makes him gasp. Merlin uses that as an opportunity to push in, to lick at Arthur’s teeth, the insides of his cheeks.

They lose track of time, of anything that is not the way their bodies press together, the heat from where they make contact. Arthur’s hands shift from Merlin’s waist, his fingers drifting over Merlin’s hips and stomach. Merlin keeps his hands locked in Arthur’s hair.

They miss the front door slamming, but when Uther’s footsteps sound down the hall and Ygraine calls out, “Boys?” they jump apart quickly. Arthur wonders if he looks as flushed as Merlin does. If his lips are as swollen and his eyes as dark. By the time his parents enter the room they are settled on the bed on their stomachs, flipping through Arthur’s latest X-men comic.

Ygraine smiles at them from the doorway. “Having fun boys?” There is something knowing in her voice and Arthur cuts his eyes at Merlin, who doesn’t seem to notice.

Merlin smiles and says, “Yes, Mrs. Pendragon.”

“Well, I’m glad. Merlin, I just spoke to your parents. Balinor seems to have a bit of a migraine so Uther will drive you home when you are ready. If you’re sure you don’t want to stay?”

Merlin’s face goes through a strained and complicated dance, but he shakes his head. “No, not tonight. I should be ready to go soon. I just need to change back into my clothes.”

“There’s no rush, dear. And you can wear that home. Just bring it back next time you’re here.”  She smiles at him.

Merlin is already getting up from the bed. “Thanks, but I should probably be heading home now. Don’t want to be falling asleep in first service.” He grabs his discarded suit and slips past Ygraine without a backward glance.

\---

Arthur  _ hates  _ first service. It’s the most traditional service, starting at a cheery 7 a.m. The music, in his opinion, is dreary and dull, and no one under forty really attends. His own parents usually go to second service. But Merlin goes to first service because his father makes him, and Arthur has been sitting beside Merlin every sunday since he was six. Merlin has to elbow him frequently, to keep him from drifting. Arthur always rolls his eyes. He can fill in the blanks during second service.

Today though, he is having no trouble staying awake. Balinor seems especially fired up about starting the topic in today’s bulletin; the Devil signs in media. Arthur hasn’t heard a single word of worship though. He’s entirely too focused on Merlin.

Arthur cannot remember a single time Merlin has been late to service. Not even the time been ill with a fever. But half way through “Keep Thyself Pure,” Merlin had finally slipped in beside him. Arthur’s shock increased when he took in the wrinkled pants and the lilac shirt.

Merlin still hasn’t looked at him. He hasn’t looked up from his shoes. Arthur is no singer himself, but he’s grown used to hearing Merlin’s voice drowning his own. Merlin keeps quiet this morning. Arthur tries to elbow him, but Merlin smoothly avoids it.

By the time worship is over, Arthur is afraid. He sits, careful to leave plenty of room for Merlin, but Merlin just throws himself down on the pew. He ends up half in Arthur’s lap and it takes him a few moments before he’s seated comfortably beside him. Arthur’s thigh burns where Merlin knee presses against him, and his hand ends up in his lap because his only other choice is gripping Merlin’s hand.

If Merlin is at all aware of their proximity, he doesn’t seem bothered. He’s got his sunday morning mask on. The blank stare he always wears when Balinor is on a rampage. Arthur wonders what Balinor caught Merlin watching or reading that inspired today’s sermon.

For once he really tries to focus on Balinor’s words. Mostly because if he doesn’t, his chest gets tight at the smell of Merlin’s shampoo and he’s afraid he might not be able to stand for the departure hymn. He’s so focused on trying to calm his own reaction that he nearly leaps out of his seat when Merlin gently pulls his hand from his lap. Their entwined hands rest between their thighs. And Arthur allows it, even though he knows better. Arthur  _ knows  _ Balinor can see it. The preacher glances at them, his eyes heavy on his son. It’s not unusual for Balinor to seek his son out during a particularly pointed example, but Arthur feels as though he’s being included this time. That Balinor isn’t just lecturing his own boy, but he’s reminding  _ Arthur  _ where he’ll end up if he doesn’t straighten up.

Arthur shoots a sideways glance at Merlin, but his friend is still staring straight ahead. His hand tightens around Arthur’s though, and Arthur has to bite his cheek to keep a grin from exploding across his face. He doesn’t hear anything else Balinor screams from the pulpit. Merlin’s hand is broad and rough and a little sweaty, but Arthur thinks he might have just found his version of heaven.

\---

Merlin pulls at his arm during the offertory. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

“What? But you’ve got to attend second service!” Arthur cannot remember a single time when Merlin hasn’t sat through the same sermon twice. Three times on Christmas and Easter.”

Merlin shakes his head. “Not anymore. Father and I argued about it for a long time after prayers last night. But now I only have to go to one service.”

Arthur makes an outraged noise. “And you picked first service? Merlin we could have  _ slept in  _ !”

“Shush! Don’t be so loud. And beside it was too late to call you. Now you know.”  He closes his eyes and bows his head, slipping his hands into his pocket. Arthur wishes he wouldn’t, but he also thinks its better. Less temptation to grab his hands in front of everyone, and where it would be easy for his father to see. Arthur follows suit, but as soon as Balinor says “Amen,” he is tugging Merlin by the elbow through the crowd.

“Wait, Arthur! Shouldn’t we wait so we can tell your parents?”

“No, they’ll figure it out. I never tell them when I’m bailing on second service. We’ve got a chance at freedom, Merlin! We don’t want to risk your father changing his mind.” He glances back with a grin, but Merlin’s eyes have gone dark. He pauses in his escape, unsure if this is the right move, but Merlin suddenly grins at him. It’s the same emotional whiplash he’s given Arthur since puberty.

“Mill House?” he asks. Arthur has barely nodded before Merlin is taking off, pushing his way through the crowds headed out for sunday brunches. Arthur’s laughter is loud as he chases after him.

\---

Arthur knows that the Mill House is Merlin’s favorite spot in town. It’s an old brick building with one room and an actual thatch roof. It’s a leftover from the days when the town was known for its abundance of paper mills. Now it’s like a forgotten relic next to the bubbling creek. He and Merlin had discovered it on a bike ride once, and it’s become their own private hang out.

They’ve gotten a little too tall for it now, but since they spend most of their time lying on the floor it doesn’t really matter. Arthur kicks at Merlin’s heels. “Christ, Merlin. It’s too hot to be here right now.”

Merlin kicks him back. “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain.”

“I’ll take your name in vain,” Arthur grumbles. It earns him a laugh from Merlin.

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Merlin sits up and sheds his jacket. “Besides, if you’re really so hot there’s a nice, cool stream of water we can go splash about in.” He begins to pull his shirt off and then his pants, before he notices Arthur’s gaze. He blushes a little, the tips of his ears turning red, but he doesn’t stop. By the time he’s down to his briefs, Arthur has finally shaken himself out of his stupor and started peeling off his own polo and khakis. 

The water is cold, surprisingly so given the heat of the day. It’s not quite deep enough for a proper swim, but they’re able to splash about and float in it. Merlin’s favorite thing seems to be trying to drag Arthur under the water. He grabs at Arthur’s shoulders, his thighs, his hips, anything he can get his hands on.

Arthur lets him, until the constant touching makes his belly swoop. He makes his way towards the deepest part, where he can crouch so that the water covers him to his shoulders. 

“You’re certainly in a pleasant mood, Merlin.”

Merlin shrugs, drifting towards Arthur. He stops about an inch away from Arthur, and Arthur swallows. The sun seems to finally be heating up the water.

Merlin follows a droplet of water with his finger as it makes its way from Arthur’s hair and down his nose. It drips into the lake. Another one finds its way towards his lips. Merlin leans forward and licks at it. He glances at Arthur as his tongue sweeps out, but Arthur lets his eyes drift shut at the sensation. Merlin moves and Arthur can hear the water around him. He gets one breath in before Merlin’s lips are on his own and he forgets what breathing even is.

It’s better this time. Because he can feel Merlin’s skin beneath his fingers. Warm, slick from the water, covering lean muscles. He digs his fingers into the dips of Merlin’s biceps, lets them roam over the planes of his back. Merlin locks his arms around Arthur, pulls at him until they’re fused at the chest. At some point, Merlin shifts so that he’s sitting on the brook’s sandy bottom, and Arthur has his knees on either side of his hips.

He bites at Merlin’s lips, sucks them into his own mouth. Merlin whines and it causes Arthur’s breath to stick in his chest. He has to pause then, rest his forehead against Merlin’s so that he can get air moving in his lungs again. Merlin takes the opportunity to lick at his neck, to bite into the hollow beneath his collarbones.

Arthur is hard. Achingly so. He shifts, trying to ease the discomfort, which causes him to brush against Merlin’s own hardness. They both freeze. Merlin stares at him with something akin to horrified curiosity and Arthur just knows that this is the moment Merlin  _ realizes _ .

He starts to lean back, to lift himself up, but Merlin places his hands on Arthur’s shoulders, causing him to sink back into his lap. It causes them to brush against each other again, and Arthur’s eyes drift shut as he lets out a shaky breath. Merlin shifts experimentally and Arthur has to bite his lips to keep from making another noise. Merlin does it a few more times, and Arthur only knows it’s affecting him too by the way his fingers dig into Arthur’s shoulders.

“Merlin... Merlin, stop.” Arthur has to pry his hands off, to push him away. Merlin scrambles back, shame in his eyes. Arthur pushes forward in the water, kisses him quick. “Not here, let’s go back to mine.”

Merlin brightens and they race to gather their clothes and tear through the fields to get back to Arthur’s house.

\---

Arthur’s parents are gone, either still at Service or out to lunch. He knows they won’t be back until the early evening, which gives him and Merlin all of the time in the world. He offers Merlin a towel when they get back, and a pair of his own shorts to change into.

When they lay on Arthur’s bed, on their sides and facing each other, a little of the excitement has worn off. Arthur takes the opportunity to place a hand on Merlin’s jaw, to let his thumb ghost over his lips. Merlin presses a kiss to the digit with a lazy smile. Arthur leans forward and kisses Merlin for real. He pushes Merlin onto his back so that he can lay on his chest. He kisses him again, then rest his hands on his arms, staring at the underside of Merlin’s jaw.

“Merlin...” There is a heaviness in his voice that makes Merlin tense beneath him. “Do you think Jesus would be proud of us?”

He can feel the tension bleed out of Merlin and his jaw move. Merlin lowers a hand to Arthur’s head and strokes his fingers through his hair. “You mean you and I, here, in this moment?”

Arthur grins, presses his head against Merlin’s chest to hide it. “No, I just mean people, in general.” 

Merlin goes quiet for a long time. Arthur lets him think. The feeling of fingers curling through his hair, the gentle breeze from the ceiling fan. The quiet of the afternoon have all lulled him into a half-dream state.

“I don’t know that Jesus is every really proud of anyone, to be honest. I don’t think He’s particularly disappointed all the time either.”

Arthur blinks. He moves around until he has a leg tangled between Merlin’s and his head is curled underneath Merlin’s chin. He throws an arm over Merlin’s torso and plays with the sheets on the other side. “So He’s neutral? Doesn’t really care about us?”

Merlin shrugs beneath him. “No, not exactly that either. I think He is more, uhm, optimistic about us.” 

Arthur lets the statement hang around them. “I think you’re wrong. I think He is sometimes proud and sometimes disappointed. I think right now He’s less proud though.”

Merlin lets out a soft huff of laughter. “And why is that?” 

Arthur thinks about them laying on his bed in an empty house, about the moment in church when they’d stood to sing and Merlin had quietly let go his hand. He thinks about Merlin’s room, with its bare walls and empty book shelves, and the disdainful way Balinor eyed his own collections of movies and books. Mostly, he thinks about the way his parents quietly hide away their wine and whiskey every saturday before Balinor and Hunith pay their weekly visit.. “Because people are still arguing D.C. versus Marvel even though we all know Batman is the best.”

Merlin laughs loudly. The movement bounces Arthur, but he doesn’t let go. “I’m tired, Merls.” 

“Then take a nap, dummy.” One of Merlin’s hands rest against his back. The other settles on his hip. Arthur snuggles into him and lets their combined heat ease him into a long nap.

\---

“I think we need to talk, son.”

Arthur jerks awake at the sound of his father’s voice. Uther and Ygraine are both standing in his doorway with unreadable expressions. Merlin is still asleep beneath him, but when Arthur begins to move away from him he stirs. As soon as he notes Arthur’s parents he also bolts up right. 

“Get yourselves together, and then meet us in the kitchen. I’ll have cook set out some tea and snacks.” Ygraina presses a kiss to Uther’s cheek as she leaves. He regards his son for a long time before he turns and follows his wife. 

Arthur and Merlin both stare at each other for a long time. Horror and panic and grief line Merlin’s face. Fear shines in his eyes. Arthur desperately wants to soothe him, to tell him everything will be okay, but he doesn’t think he can make those promises.

Merlin is the first to climb out of the bed. He puts on the same mask he wears during service, the mask that means he’s gone to whatever corner of his mind he usually goes to when Balinor gives one of his ranting sermons. Arthur follows after him and offers Merlin a shirt. Merlin takes it absently. For a moment Arthur tries to grab his hand, to squeeze it the way he’s seen his mother do when Uther is worried about a meeting. Merlin doesn’t give him a chance though, as he slips away and leaves the room. Arthur ends up going downstairs in just his shorts. The sound of his bare feet echoes off the tile. It’s loud, but not as loud as the beating of his heart.

When they arrive in the kitchen, his parents are whispering intensely. They quieten down as soon as Merlin slips into a seat. Arthur isn’t sure sitting is the right move here and instead hovers behind Merlin.

“Arthur, son, take a seat.” Uther waves a hand at the chair beside Merlin’s.

“You aren’t in trouble or anything,” Ygraine adds.

Arthur hesitates, looks between Merlin and the chair and his parents several times before he finally sinks into the highback seat. 

Ygraine speaks first, “so how long has this thing been a… thing?”

“Not long at all, Mrs. Pendragon.” Merlin keeps his head down and his voice low.

“Merlin, honey. We aren’t mad. We’re just trying to figure some things out. Help you boys.” Uther reaches across the table towards Merlin, but he pulls his hand back when Merlin flinches. 

“We really aren’t even a thing, you guys.” Arthur brushes at some crumbs as he speaks. “It’s not like a serious deal or whatever.”

Uther snorts which earns him a slap from his wife. He shrugs at her. “Half naked in a bed together, wrapped around each other, usually indicates  _ something, _  Arthur. Whether or not you’ve discussed it with each other, there is clearly something happening between you. Serious or not.”

Ygraine nods. “Boys, are you even gay?”

“Mother!” Arthur can’t help his indignation.

“You’re right. That was a fool’s question. Merlin, honey, are you gay?” 

Arthur can feel his jaw drop. Uther pats his son’s hand. “Arthur, we’ve known about you since you were little.”

“Most of the town has speculated,” Merlin mutters. 

Arthur turns to gape at him. “Are you telling me you knew?”

Merlin gives him the same shoulder jerk he gives his father when he’s being yelled at. “Well, obviously not for sure until last night.”

“And what? You never thought to ask me until I kissed you?”

“To be fair, I didn’t exactly have to ask after that either.” 

Arthur growls at him and lunges out of his chair. Uther stands up quickly, ready to pull his son back. “Well, it seems as though you have some things to sort out between yourselves later, but right now we have bigger issues to deal with. Does your father have any clue about your preferences, Merlin?”

Merlin gives them all an aghast look. “No! Absolutely not.” The sheer terror, the tremble in his voice worries all three of the Pendragons.

Ygraine comes around and wraps him in a hug. “Oh Merlin, honey. I won’t deny I’ve always held out some hope that you and Arthur would get together. But I must admit I prayed it would happen after you’d left for college.”

Merlin’s shoulders begin to shake, and he buries his head in Ygraine’s arms. She kisses the dark swath of hair and whispers something to him that neither Arthur nor Uther hear.

Uther motions for Arthur to follow him and they leave Merlin and Ygraine behind. “You know we are going to have to adjust some rules now, Arthur. If this is going to be an actual relationship.”

Arthur shuffles his feet, scuffing them against the floor. “It might not be anything, you know.”

Uther sighs, loops an arm around his shoulders. “I think we both know it is.”

Arthur doesn’t want to admit it, but he leans into the embrace. “Father, are you disappointed?”

“Why would I be?”

Arthur glances up at his father’s face. “Because you’ve got a heathen for a son.”

Uther laughs lightly. “A heathen? Why? Because of Merlin, or because of the weed? ”

Arthur throws his hands up in the air as he pulls away, “Have I no secrets from you?”

“None,” Uther replies. He grips Arthur by the shoulders though, waits until his son is looking at him. The last time he was this serious Morgana had told them that she was not, in fact going to go to school for business. Instead she was going to the dance academy. “I know what Pastor Balinor preaches, I know how he reads the Scripture.” He pauses a moment. “Your mother and I discussed this a lot when you were younger. How we would handle it. For many months we debated leaving this town, finding somewhere that would be safe for you. But in the end we decided it didn’t matter. No matter what Pastor Balinor teaches from that pulpit, that’s  not the final word on these things. We each choose ourselves what we think is true.”

He hears his mother and Merlin join them. Ygraine adds to her husband’s words.

“The Scripture is a complicated work. It’s full of poetry and science, imagery and fact. We can study it, try to live by it, but we must always accept that we may never fully understand it.”

“I don’t think my father would agree with you.” Merlin’s voice lacks its usually warmth.

Uther smiles at him gently. “Merlin, I say this with as much respect as I can muster, but your father is not God. He is not without his own misunderstandings.”

Something dark flickers across Merlin’s face when he nods.

“Okay, boys. Here’s the deal,”  Ygraine says, her hands on her hips. “Uther and I aren’t going to say anything to anyone. It’ll be up to you two to decide who you want to know. Although I do recommend you let your sister know, Arthur. She’ll be hurt if she hears about it after the fact.” She turns to Merlin. “You’re always welcome here, but from now on the bedroom door stays open, and if Uther and I aren’t here we’d like you guys to stay in the living room.”

She stops in her speech and Uther reaches for her hand. They share a look, one of those giant conversation ones, and then Uther looks at Merlin. “Son, you’ve got some serious choices to make. I think we all know where your father stands on this issue, and we certainly aren’t going to put you at any kind of risk. I know that you both leave for school in a few months, but this is a small town and rumors spread fast here...”

“Can’t he just stay here until we leave?” The hope sounds far fetched, even to Arthur’s own ears, but he asks the question anyway.

Merlin shoves at him. “Don’t be a cabbagehead. You know mom and dad would never go for that.”

Both of Arthur’s parents chuckle at them. “Dinner should be ready in an hour or so. I think you boys have some stuff to talk about,” Ygraine says with a knowing look, and then she drifts out of the room with Uther, arm in arm.

Merlin and Arthur stand there awkwardly, unsure of where to go until Merlin says, “Milkshakes at Alice’s cafe?”

“Race you there.” Arthur takes off immediately.

“You prat. Put on a shirt and some shoes or they’ll kick us out for sure!”

\---

Gaius is at the counter when they burst through the doors and he smiles at them. “Booth’s open boys. I’ll have fries and two strawberry shakes out to you shortly.”

Merlin nods as he heads back but Arthur stops long enough to say, “make one of those chocolate, yeah? Thanks!”

He takes the bench across from Merlin and kicks him in the shin. “Put a coin in the jukebox, Merls. Play me something cute.”

“Piss off, Arthur. You never like what I pick.”

“That’s because you always pick something sappy.”

“Hey, I’m a sensitive guy.”

Arthur can’t help the smirk he gets, remembering Merlin’s earlier response.

“Oh, shut up.”  Merlin holds his hand out. “Gimme some coins then. These are your shorts so I don’t have my wallet.”

Arthur grumbles but he pulls out his billfold and digs around for the change. He hands three quarters to Merlin. “Pick whatever you want. But make sure you play that Taylor Swift song!” 

“Bad Blood? You’re so ridiculous.” Merlin does as told though. 

By the time Merlin comes back Gaius has already dropped off their fries and shakes, along with an extra glass.  A sad country song plays, one that Arthur refuses to know the name of. He pours half the chocolate shake and half the strawberry shake into the extra glass and pushes it towards Merlin. 

“So...” says Merlin as he chases condensation down the side.

“So...” replies Arthur.

“Eloquent as usual, Mr. Pendragon,” Merlin quips.

Arthur kicks him in the shins again. “So are you gay, Merlin?”

He watches as Merlin’s eyes go round and he looks around nervously.

“Be a little louder could you?” Merlin hisses.H 

Arthur pulls the leftover strawberry shake towards himself and begins to drink. He wipes a little from the corner of his mouth, and then he says, “Merlin, there’s no one else here but us.”

“Gaius is here.”

“One, Gaius is in the back with Alice, and two, of all the people in this town to care, I doubt it’s either half of the unmarried couple living together and refusing to step foot in your father’s building.”

Merlin flushes but he doesn’t disagree. Arthur nudges him again. “Well?”

Merlin sighs, swirls his milkshake around. “Oh I don’t know, Arthur. I’ve never even thought about it.” 

“Well, who all have you had crushes on? Mostly guys? Or mostly girls?”

Merlin shrugs and drags a fry through his shake. It aggravates Arthur. He tries not to push though and gives Merlin time to think. They eat half the plate before he prods again. “C’mon, you can trust me, you know.”

“Can I?” Merlin parrots back. But there’s no fear in his eyes. There’s a certainty in them, one that makes Arthur jealous. He’s never been so sure of anything in his life, he doesn’t think. “It’s only ever been you, Arthur.”

“Me? You’ve never liked anyone but me?”

Merlin nods. “It never really mattered before. I figured it was sort of nice, not having to worry about stuff like that. And I always kind of guessed about you, but I never thought you would go for me, so the whole issue seemed rather moot.”

“And then I kissed you.” Merlin glances around once more, nervously. 

“Yeah. And then you kissed me.” 

Arthur leans back against the booth, studying Merlin. “Are you mad that I did it?”

Merlin rolls his eyes at him. “You really are thick sometimes. Did it  _ seem  _ like I was mad to you? Cause if I remember right you’re the one who stopped our fun earlier...” He looks up at Arthur through his eyelashes, eyes dark.  

Arthur gives Merlin his most unimpressed look. “So like, what now? Are we...” he hesitates in his thought.

“Dating? I s’pose that depends on whether you’re paying tonight or if we’re going dutch.” Merlin gives him a cheeky grin and Arthur continues to stare at him. Mostly because  _ of course  _ , he’s paying. He’s the only one with any money. “I don’t know,” Merlin continues.  “I don’t think it really matters what we call it. Either way we have to keep it from my father. I like you, and I definitely want to kiss you more. But what difference does it make if we call it  ‘dating’ or ‘hanging out’. What does that really change?” 

“Well, for starters ‘dating’ implies more kissing. Maybe other stuff... ‘Hanging out’  means you have to pay me back for the fries.”

Beneath the table he can feel Merlin’s shoe against his ankle. He kicks one of his legs up onto the opposite bench, digs his heel into Merlin’s thigh. Merlin tries unsuccessfully to suppress his grin. “All right. So if we’re boyfriends now, you wanna pay our tab and walk me home before it gets too late?”

“Do I get a kiss at the door?” Arthur regrets the joke as soon as Merlin’s face drops. “Yeah, I’ll walk you home.”

\---

For the most part, nothing really changes. Merlin spends most of his days roaming the Pendragon property. He does visitations on saturdays with his parents and he spends sundays as blank faced as always in the pew with Arthur beneath his father’s pulpit. They go and get high at Mill Creek any chance they get.

Arthur thinks that is the most noticeable difference. Not the getting high itself, but what it leads to. Lazy kisses and probing fingers. Mostly,  _ mostly  _ , they keep it PG. Merlin’s favorite thing is to lie on his back, to have Arthur’s weight pressing him into the ground. He likes to suck on Arthur’s lips, to bite until they’re puffy and red. He tangles his hands in Arthur’s hair and kisses him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

Arthur prefers to run his fingers over Merlin’s sharp hips. He likes the noises Merlin makes when he kisses his Adam’s apple, and when he nibbles at the lobes of his ears. He loves it when he can inhale the smoke and then kiss it right back into Merlin’s mouth, watching as the high washes over him.

Sometimes he likes to dig his fingers past the waistband of Merlin’s shorts, tease his nails across the top of curls he imagines are dark. He loves the way it makes Merlin’s breath hitch, the way his hips jerk up and his head falls back and his mouth opens wide. Arthur has just a moment, then, to worship the way Merlin looks before he’s being flipped onto his back.

Arthur lets Merlin kiss him for a minute, lets Merlin’s hands stroke his blond curls. But he always stops him at the first brush of rough fingers against the top of his lower curls.

Today is no different. As soon as he feels Merlin’s nails dipping too far, he’s gently pushing him off. Merlin knows the routine so he rolls off him in a smooth motion and lays on his back beside Arthur. Arthur reaches for his hand, and Merlin lets him grab it but he continues to stare up at the ceiling.

“I’m going to come out, Merlin. To the town.” Arthur lets the words drop before he can talk himself out of it. He can feel Merlin tense, but to his relief their hands stay joined.

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“No. But I feel like I need to do this.”

Merlin doesn’t respond immediately. When he does, his voice is small, afraid. “Do you expect me to come out with you, Arthur?”

Arthur sits up and pulls Merlin up with him. He grabs his other hand and runs his thumbs across the top Merlin’s knuckles. “Don’t be an idiot, Merlin. Our situations are completely different. I wouldn’t put you at risk that way.”

“But won’t it bother you to have to keep hiding like this?” Merlin leans in so he can rest his forehead against Arthur’s.

“No, not really. My parents know, Morgana knows and hen we go off to school we won’t have to hide it anymore. Besides, you said you didn’t want to come back here after you got your degree. Neither do I, so I don’t care what people think of me,  I’ll be gone soon enough.” He kisses Merlin after he speaks.

Merlin lets him but pulls away quickly. “How’re you going to do it?”

“Same way we do everything important,” he says with a grin. “I’m going to post it on Instagram.”

“Yeah? When?”

“Before your parents throw their end of summer bash on saturday.”

Merlin kisses him again. There’s something fevered in it, some franticness that sets Arthur on edge even as he loses himself in the sweaty taste of Merlin and the way his fingers dig into Arthur’s ribs.

\---

Arthur’s post goes up on thursday. His parents take him and Merlin out for pizza that night, as way of celebration. By lunch on friday, Arthur is  wondering if he made the right choice after all. Normally Merlin would’ve strolled through his door right after breakfast, but instead, he hasn’t heard from him at all.

He decides to head into town, bored and antsy. At first everything seems normal. It’s not until Nimueh and Mary both cross the street when he’s walking towards him that he begins to gets the feeling that something is going on. No one will look at him. Conversations go silent as he approaches.

He enters Alice’s cafe with a sinking stomach. When he opens the door the whole place goes completely silent, despite the large crowd. Everyone bends their heads, studying their food. One mother even shushes her child and tells him to look away. Arthur walks to the counter and waits for Gaius. When the old man comes out, he looks at Arthur sadly and motions him towards the counter. “Arthur, always good to see you!”

“Is it, Gaius?”  They both look around as several people leave, dropping too much cash beside their half-eaten meals.

“Don’t worry, it’ll pass, my boy. Just something new to stir up this sleepy little town.”

“So you know then?” Arthur sinks onto a barstool and lets his head hit the countertop.

“Oh, Arthur. I think by now everyone knows.”  Gaius sets a plate of fries, coated in cheese and bacon and ranch, before him. “But Alice and I are proud of you, and we support you.”

“Thanks.” He knows he sounds sullen but he hopes Gaius know he means it, too. Gaius just nods at him and starts to head back towards the kitchen. “Hey, have you seen Merlin around today?”

Gaius’ face does that thing every adult’s face does, when they know the truth and they’re trying to figure out how to hide it. He must know that Arthur suspects something, because in the end he just raises his shoulder and shakes his head.

Arthur leaves after that. He wanders through the town a little more, before returning home. When he enters both of his parents are in the parlor. “Oh, Arthur. It’s going to be okay.”

“Has Merlin called?”

They both shake their head and Arthur sighs before making his way to his room where he falls onto his bed. He falls asleep, and doesn’t wake up until the early hours of the morning. The first thing he does when waking is check his phone. There’s still no call from Merlin, and it’s way too late for him to ring the Emerson’s house. He ends up picking through the leftovers in the fridge before going back to sleep.

\---

The Summer’s End bash is probably the biggest non-service related event of this small, religious town. It starts early, with crafts and stalls going up in the morning and cake walks in the afternoon. Several bands start playing in the evenings before the big firework show. When he was younger, Arthur’s parents would drag him there at 7 a.m. to have his  face painted and then they’d all get funny caricatures. Then Ygraine would go off to look at whatever goods were being sold while Uther and Arthur waited impatiently for the food stalls to open.

They stopped making him go so early when he was 14, but he and Merlin would still meet them for lunch before taking off in search of the rides and games. This year though, he isn’t sure Merlin’s going to be there, so he tags along with his parents when they go.

If Uther or Ygraine notice the stares or the whispers, they don’t let it affect them. His parents walk hand in hand, completely oblivious to everything around them. The only sign he sees of his decision affecting them is when they reach Nimueh’s stall.

For as long as he can remember his mother has been buying mint infused soaps and lotions from this stall. Most of the scents rotate, year to year, but the mint has always been a constant. But when Ygraine approaches, there’s a basket that’s noticeably empty. Nimueh regards her with soft eyes. “Bad mint crop this year.”

Ygraine offers her a tight smile. “No matter, I’ve been meaning to try the cedarwood soap anyway.”

Arthur waits, because it looks like Nimueh is going to come up with a reason not to sell it to her, but then she holds up a hand. “Actually, hold on. I think Morgause may have one or two bricks somewhere.” Nimueh glances around them. She reaches below the table and picks up a wrapped bundle that she quickly hands to Ygraine. “On the house.”  She shoots Arthur a look. “You be careful around here, kid.” She walks to the backp of her stall before they can answer and before anyone can see her interacting with them.

Arthur’s cheeks are burning, and he mumbles an excuse at his parents before he wanders off towards the food vendors. He’d skipped breakfast for this event, but now that he’s actually here his stomach is far to tangled for him to even think about eating. And there’s still no sign of Merlin.

After the incident at Nimueh’s stall, people begin to arrive quickly and the tables around Arthur become crowded. His own remains empty save for him, and as he watches two families try to squeeze into one table his annoyance grows. He’s about ready to storm off when a plate of sugary, deep fried dough lands in front of him. Balinor sits down, joined by a downcast Merlin.  

“Ah, Mr. Pendragon. I must admit, I’m a little surprised to see you here.” Balinor picks at the sweet food, careful to keep the powder from his beard, “given that this is a church event, and all.”

Arthur keeps his face carefully neutral, despite the frown threatening to form. “Well, as a member of the church, I thought I’d come and show support.” He casts a glance at Merlin who still hasn’t looked up.

Balinor raises his brows at Arthur. “Are you a member of the church? Because as far as I’m concerned, that’s the privilege reserved for a true believer.”

Arthur can’t help snorting at that comment. “And here I was thinking that the church was there to reach the lost.”

Balinor’s fingers still in his shredding of the desert. “The church is a place of holy and sanctified worship, Mr. Pendragon. It is meant as a place to cleanse oneself of their sin so that they can commune with God.” Balinor gives him a hard look. “One cannot expect to enter the Lord’s house with willful sin in his heart, and still think that he should be invited back, surely.”

“And what is my sin?” Arthur asks, fixing Balinor with a hard stare.

Balinor is unflinching and looks almost sorry when he answers, “if you must ask, then I am afraid you’re more lost than I thought.”

Arthur glances around them. Their conversation hasn’t been loud, but he can’t help but notice that everyone is watching them. He tries to remain calm, bearing the large crowd around them in mind. “Father Emerson, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you mean by this conversation.”

Balinor takes another bite, chews slowly. “What I mean is,” he says, as he wipes his mouth, “that I am afraid you and your family are no longer welcome. I cannot allow your sin to taint the congregation, especially as it seems you have no intentions of confessing or repenting.”

Merlin gasps. It’s the first reaction he’s had since he sat down. “Father! You can’t be serious. You cannot ban them from services!”

Balinor places a warning hand on his son’s shoulder. “Merlin, we spoke about this. I had hoped to see some glimmer of hope in the young Pendragon, some kind of true remorse for his sins, but as he has not I’m afraid I stand by my earlier ruling. You are to have no contact with the boy.”

Merlin stands up then, tears gathering in his eyes. “No. You can’t do this! You can’t just demand I don’t see him anymore. He is my  _ friend.  _ ”

Balinor doesn’t stand up. He pats the bench beside him. “Now, now, Merlin. Don’t make a scene. You have plenty of other friends.I cannot allow this abomination to corrupt you any further.”

“Corrupt me?” Merlin cries. Arthur shifts in his seat, aware of the way they have become the sole focus of the everyone in attendance. “This is madness!”

“Watch your tone, Merlin.” There’s a fire in Balinor’s eyes that makes Arthur nervous. “This outburst is just more proof that I should have ended his influence on you much sooner. Challenging  _ my  _ rulings? Have you learned  _ nothing  _ from the Lord’s words?”

Merlin points an accusing finger at his father. “What about you? Have you learned nothing? We’re meant to show love to the lost! To guide them towards Him! Our place is not to cast judgement!”

Balinor stands then and turns to face his son, pressing closer so that he’s right in Merlin’s face. He speaks quietly, so quietly Arthur thinks he might be the only person to hear what is said. “Ours is to preach the Lord’s words and to honor his commandments. Not to engage with the wicked of this world and to sink into their follies.”

“I won’t let you do this,” replies Merlin, through gritted teeth. “You can’t stop me from seeing him, from being his friend.”

“I can, and I will Merlin.” There’s a warning in Balinor’s tone that Merlin does not head.

“If you do this, father, if you bar the Pendragon’s from service, and bar me from seeing Arthur I promise you, I’ll never step foot in a church again. I will renounce my faith.”

It’s Arthur that gasps this time. Merlin stands there with his head high. Balinor seems strangely calm, given his son’s announcement.

“You’ll do no such thing, son,” he finally replies.

Merlin sneers at his father, “watch me.”

The sound of the slap that follows echoes around the park like a gunshot. Several people gas in horror, and Merlin is knocked two steps back by the force of it. His cheek is red and already swelling, and there are tears in his eyes. Balinor doesn’t seem at all bothered as he grabs his son by the arm and begins to shove him through the crowd. “We’re going home, Merlin. You’ll be confined to your room until you come to your senses. This boy has poisoned your mind with his sin.”

Hunith appears from the crowd, her lips pressed into a thin line. She looks at Arthur, and while there’s no apology in her eyes, he doesn’t see hate either. “You best be going, Arthur.,” she tells him.  

He can tell that she means it for his own safety.

\---

Arthur doesn’t see Merlin for three weeks. He doesn’t even leave his house, except to tag along with his parents to the grocery store, just for a change of scenery. They’ve taken to driving an hour away to shop, because Ygraine couldn’t handle the overwhelming silence, the way people turned away from her.

“Do you think you guys will stay here?” He ask one afternoon as he puts away boxes of cereal.

Uther pauses as he’s placing cucumbers in the crisper. “I don’t know yet, son,” he says. “But maybe. You’re going to school close to Morgana, and Morgana doesn’t seem all that inclined to return here.”

“Yes, well. There’s nowhere to dance and another thing that’s practically a crime, according to Pastor Emerson,” comments Ygraine, acerbically.

Arthur can’t remember a time he’d ever heard his mother speak ill of anyone. Uther laughs. “What she means to say is, we’ve been looking at land around that area. But we haven’t made any final decisions yet.”

Arthur nods. “I’m sorry, you know. That I’ve made things difficult for you here.”

Ygraine shakes her head. “Oh, Arthur. It really isn’t about you. People like Balinor Emerson always need someone else to blame. Someone worse than they are so they can hold themselves up on that pedestal and flaunt their own purity.” She walks over and kisses his forehead. “Go wash up for dinner.”

\---

The weekend before Arthur is supposed to leave they get a knock on the front door. Merlin is standing there with three large suitcases and a bruise beneath one eye.

Uther looks on in horror as Ygraine ushers him in and grabs some ice.

“Arthur dear, take his bags on up to your room. Merlin, do either of your parents know you’re gone?”

“Mother watched me pack,” he answers quietly. “But I don’t know if she’s aware I’ve left.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Merlin shakes his head. “No thank you, Mrs Pendragon. If it’s okay with you I’d like to talk to Arthur.”

Ygraine looks as though she is going to argue, but Uther must hear something in his voice. He quietly grabs his wife’s hand. “Ygraine, we need to go pick up something for dinner. Arthur, Mexican or Thai?”

“Uh,” is Arthur’s eloquent response.

Uther nods and then he leaves with Ygraine.

Arthur stands in the center of the room, watching Merlin. He reaches out and carefully touches the bruise on his face. “Did Balinor do this?”

Merlin knocks his hand away. “It’s not what you think, Arthur. He didn’t beat me or anything.  He just got mad.”

“About what?”

“I told him I was coming to see you,” Merlin says with a sad smile “That he was stupid if he thought he could keep us away from each other when we’re going to the same school in the fall.”

Arthur can’t help the small laugh he gives. “Is he aware we’re going to be roommates?”

Merlin rolls his eyes and then winces. “Of course he doesn’t. This might come as a surprise to you, but I’m actually the smarter of the two of us.”

Arthur gently knocks him in the shoulder. “Then I must be real stupid because you’re sort of an idiot.”

Merlin ignores the joke. “Come to church with me tomorrow. You and your parents.”

“You know I can’t, Merlin. Your father won’t let us step foot in a service without a riot.”

Merlin nods. “I know. That’s why we aren’t attending a service. Come with me tomorrow. I’m going to tell the whole congregation the truth about us. Meet me at the front doors when they pass around the offering plates in second service.”

Arthur regards him with confusion. “But—aren’t you spending the night here, Merlin?”

“Yeah, ‘course I am.”

“Then why wouldn’t we just go together?”

Merlin gets frustrated then. “Look, just trust me. Okay?”

Arthur backs off and quits arguing, giving Merlin a nod. “Yeah, fine. I’ll have my parents take me.”

“Good.”  Merlin leans in then to kiss Arthur. It feels almost like a last kiss, urgent and desperate and so full of unsaid things. When they pull apart Merlin stares at him. “I think, Arthur Pendragon, you might be a devil I’ve sold my soul to.”

Arthur has no answer, so he kisses him again.

\---

Arthur and his parents stand at the sanctuary doors dressed in their sunday finest. Ygraine pulls at the hem of her red dress nervously, and looks at her son. “Are you sure about this, Arthur?”

“No, not really. But I’m sure about Merlin.” He looks around for the dark hair of his boyfriend. They’ve been standing at the doors long enough to hear Balinor’s spirited denouncement of homosexuals and their “sexual misconduct.” About how, if left unconfronted it festers, spreads, infects others. Arthur is not sure how much longer his father can keep quiet.

He’s about to ask his parents to take him home when a hand lands on his shoulder. Merlin stands there in a suit Arthur has never seen before. All black, with thin stripes, perfectly tailored to his form. He’s got a black shirt and a black tie. _And_ , Arthur thinks, _black_ _sin in his eyes._

Merlin nods at Arthur’s parents and says, “Apologies in advance for what you’re about to witness.” He pauses for a moment, and then says “and this,” before he grabs Arthur’s face and pulls him into a filthy kiss. Arthur is content to let it continue until his father clears his throat. Merlin grins against his mouth. “I’ve missed you, prat. Are you ready for this?”

Arthur has no clue what ‘this’ is, but when Merlin grabs his hand he nods. They push the doors open just as the final hymn is beginning. The organ stops playing and everyone in the congregation turns around. Merlin pulls Arthur past the rows of pews with his head held high as he stares his father down at the pulpit. Balinor doesn’t seem concerned as they come to a halt in front of him.

“What is this, Merlin?” He asks quietly.

“I’ve come to make a confession, Pastor. Since you seem so fond of those.”

Balinor doesn’t say anything. Merlin turns toward the crowd and raises his and Arthur’s joined hands. “See, Arthur’s not the only sinner that’s been sitting in these pews. My name is Merlin Emerson, and I’m in love with Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur looks at the boy beside him, surprised at the lack of fear, of shame.

Merlin continues, “I’m in love with him and I fully intend to marry him one day. Well, if he’ll have me.” He turns and kisses Arthur again, then looks back at his father. “You told me growing up that ours was a message of hope, love and redemption. That we had a God who loved us enough to die for us. You told me that love was for everyone. And that any man who accepted that gift was worthy of it.”

Merlin looks back at the people of his town, those who grew up with him and who helped raise him. “But now you want to teach me that this gift is only for those who are righteous. Those who are  _ worthy  _ . And you want us all to believe that you somehow decide who they are. I’m here to tell you that  _ you’re wrong  _ , father.”

Merlin’s voice cracks on the last word.

“I am your son. A member of your congregation. And I love this boy standing next to me. The only thing I’m sorry about today, is that you can’t see how  _ good  _ he is, how right  _ we  _ are. I told you that day you banned them that I would renounce my faith. But I was wrong then. I’m not renouncing my faith. I’m renouncing  _ yours  _ .”

Merlin falls silent then, and Uther and Ygraine walk down the aisle. They stand on either side of the couple as the exit the church.

“We’re proud of you boys,” Ygraine says as they pile into the car.

\---

Finals are in full swing and Arthur is exhausted. He’s more than a little jealous of Merlin who somehow finagled all his classes so that he didn’t have to take  _ any  _ finals. So while Arthur is spending most of his waking hours bouncing between his student job at a campus dining hall and cramming for exams, Merlin spends his curled up in their bed watching movies. Sometimes he offers to cover a shift to give Arthur a break, but usually they’re scheduled at the same time.

Today is no different. Arthur can already hear the music as he enters the dorm. All of the lights are off, so he stumbles his way through the common area and towards the bedroom. Merlin doesn’t notice him immediately upon his entrance. Arthur takes the chance to appreciate the full view, which mostly consist of dark hair poking out a blanket burrito.

“Billy Elliot again?”

Merlin doesn’t move except to raise his middle finger at Arthur.

“This movie is crucial to our relationship, Arthur. Have some respect.”

Arthur scoffs at him as he dumps his books onto his desk and kicks off his shoes.

He climbs onto the bed they’ve made by pushing their singles together and tugs at the blankets until Merlin lets him into the cocoon he’s made. It’s warm, which is nice given the cold weather outside, but the best part is how it smells like Merlin.

“Christ, Merls. How long have you been in here?”

Merlin prods his belly. “Don’t say that. And I dunno, when was the last time you were here?”

Arthur thinks for a moment. “Yesterday, before breakfast. I spent most of the night at the library. Morgana’s apartment was closer so I crashed at her place.”

Merlin finally looks at him. “Since then, probably.” He leans over and kisses Arthur.

“Gross. Go shower and brush your teeth.” Arthur smiles into the kiss though. Merlin doesn’t immediately move towards the bathroom. Instead, he grabs Arthur’s face so he can’t escape and breaths all over his face. Arthur pretends to gag as he shoves him off. “Shower!”

“All right, all right. I’m going you great spoilsport.” Merlin plants one last kiss on his nose before heading to the bathroom to do as he’s told.

Arthur has stripped down to his briefs by the time Merlin comes out, towel loosely slung across his hips and hair dripping everywhere. He wolf whistles at Arthur’s outstretched form. Arthur rolls his eyes as the credits begin to roll. “You can’t even see me in the dark, Merlin.”

“Don’t have to. I’ve memorized every inch of you.”

He throws his towel off into a corner, ignoring Arthur’s silent command to put it in the hamper. Arthur soon forgets all about it though as Merlin climbs onto the bed and stretches out across him; naked, wet, and hard.

“Hey, Merlin.” Arthur runs a hand through his damp curls.

“Hi, Arthur. Missed you.” Merlin kisses the thatch of hair in the center of Arthur’s chest with a loud, wet smack. Arthur groans and shoves at his face.

“Why did I pick you, of all people?”

Merlin licks at his shoulder and moves up to bite at his jaw. “‘Cause I’m freaking adorable and your parents love me.”

Arthur hums, his fingers dipping down Merlin’s back, stilling just above his ass. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s just cause you’ll do anything in bed,” he says smugly.

“Oi!” Merlin cries, lifting himself up on his elbows. “We will see about that!” He makes to move off of Arthur, but Arthur is quicker. He grabs Merlin by the wrist and wrestles him so that Arthur ends up on top, sitting victoriously on Merlin’s hips.

Merlin wriggles beneath him, only half fighting. The other half of him is trying to find the right position so that he can rub himself against Arthur. Arthur smirks down at him and Merlin narrows his eyes and goes extremely still, limp, beneath Arthur.

Arthur pins Merlin’s hands above his head and kisses his jaw, biting at the corner just so he can hear the whine it draws from him. “Do you know what today is, Merlin?”

Merlin tilts his head so that Arthur has better access. “Wednesday?”

Arthur works his way up his cheek, and across the bridge of his nose, peppering Merlin with little kisses and nips. “Yes... But it’s also the last day of finals for me.”

Merlin lifts his head, nearly colliding with Arthur’s face. “Oh yeah?”

Arthur grins wickedly at him as he reaches over to the nightstand by the bed. The lube is still sitting by the alarm clock, easy to grab. “That means... we have  _ three whole, uninterrupted days  _ of no class and no work before my parents come and take us to the new house.”

“Three days without other roommates, too,” Merlin reminds him. “They’ve all left already.” He reaches between them to scrape his fingers down Arthur’s chest, and over his briefs. Arthur gasps, nearly dropping the lube. Merlin gives him a cheeky grin and does it again, before curling his fingers into the elastic waistband and pulling them down.

It’s not nearly as awkward as their first time. And yet Arthur’s legs still get tangled in his underwear for a moment, and Merlin nearly brains himself against the cinder block walls in his haste to turn over. But by the time Arthur gets his tongue between Merlin’s ass cheeks, they’ve mostly got it figured out. Normally, Arthur would linger. He would take his time bringing Merlin to the edge. But he’s in a bit of a hurry tonight, a bit impatient because it feels as though they haven’t seen each other in  _ weeks  _ .

Merlin seems to feel the same because as soon as Arthur gets one finger in him, he’s demanding a second. “C’mon, Merls. Don’t want to go too fast...”

Merlin growls at him. “Arthur, I’ve been waiting on you for days. I’m pretty ready.”

Arthur works his second and third finger in, quickly, but carefully. It still feels like it’s taking too long, and by the time he’s lining himself up and pushing in. Merlin’s quiet and pleased moan tells him he’s probably feeling the same. It doesn’t take Arthur more than a few hard thrusts to feel the end approaching, and he reaches beneath Merlin to grip him in a slick hand.

This part he’s got down near perfect. He knows exactly how hard to grip, how quick to move, how to twist his wrist. In a matter of moments they’re both coming in near perfect unison. Arthur slumps against Merlin’s back, mouths at his neck while they catch their breaths.

Arthur’s about ready to fall asleep on Merlin’s back when he starts shifting. “Get off, I need to move off this wet patch, and probably take another shower.”

Arthur groans. “Just roll over and shower later.”

“Now who’s gross?” But Arthur can hear Merlin digging around for the wipes they keep under their joined beds. He thinks a proper boyfriend might offer to help, but he’s tired, and when he rolls onto the second bed, he’s wrapped in soft blankets and warm. Merlin presses against his back, burrows his way under the covers and tucks his freezing feet between Arthur’s.

“Who knew the preacher’s son was so naughty?” Arthur mumbles, pleased, with eyes closed.

Merlin snorts into the hair at the back of his neck. “Believe me, we have three days for me to show you just how naughty I can be.”

“I’m looking forward to that,” Arthur grins as he drifts off to sleep.

  
  



End file.
